Boff, Marry, Kill and Other Games
by Roslin Fan
Summary: Fleetwide games force the leaders to reconsider their feelings for each other.


Boff, Marry, Kill, and Other Games

After spending nearly his entire adult life aboard one battlestar or another, Bill Adama was used to hearing crew talk. There wasn't much else to do but talk: talk and drink, talk and play triad, or just talk. He also wasn't oblivious to the fact that when they weren't talking or working, they were probably frakking. It's what he had done when he was young, and it was what the thousands under his command were doing then.

So, the fact that his crew was talking during triad, wasn't surprising. Nor was the fact that they were playing "Boff, Marry, Kill." That game had been around since before the first cylon war, so it was nothing new. What was new-at least to Bill-was hearing Laura's name in connection to it. To his relief, none of the crew playing said they'd kill her, but they were all torn between marrying her and frakking her-even the ladies who were present at the table.

Admiral Adama was torn. Part of him wanted to defend his President's honor. But he knew she wouldn't want him making a fuss over that. Knowing her, she'd probably encourage their game as a morale boost. Her remarkably selfless nature filled his heart with pride and admiration. There were few things Bill Adama regretted in his life, but one of them was that he had ever thought less of Laura. So he walked away from the common room, smiling as he thought of Laura.

Laura. Laura, whom apparently everyone wanted, whom he'd wanted for months. After hearing her in connection to the game, he couldn't stop thinking about her in those terms. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized he'd never be able to play unless her name was listed all three times. Because she was the only one who had ever invoked all of his emotions at once. He wanted to frak her, marry her, frak her some more, and sometimes, not often, but occasionally, he wanted to kill her. But mostly he just wanted to marry her and frak her.

Thinking neither of those things would ever happen, Bill walked toward is quarters with his head lower than usual. The President of the Twelve Colonies would be arriving soon for their meeting, and it wouldn't do for him to have such inappropriate thoughts about the woman holding the office.

Laura had spent most of her adult life among educators, politicians, and staffers. She knew regardless of their position, people talked. They talked about their students, bosses, children, husbands. They spread gossip wherever they were, and no one and nothing were spared. So she expected her staffers to talk. A lot. It wasn't like there was much else to do in the middle of space anyway.

And she was very familiar with the concept of "Boff, Marry, Kill." The teachers had loved to play it during lunch. Politicians and staffers played it (separately, of course) between meetings. Laura had never participated. She had always found it childish. But since the attacks, her attitude toward the game changed. The fact that people continued to participate in silly games and idle chatter meant that they were still alive, and it was good for morale. So Laura allowed the games to continue without interrupting them.

That day, however, she heard something she wasn't expecting. The female staffers included Bill Adama in their options. To her relief, none of the ladies said they'd kill him. She wasn't sure why that relieved her so much-it was just a game after all. But in light of the events surrounding Kobol and Cain, the idea of anyone harming Bill terrified her. The ladies either wanted to marry or boff him. And their scenarios of both were shockingly imaginative. Laura considered interrupting the game; she knew her stoic Admiral wouldn't appreciate being the subject of their game. But it was good for morale, and she had to admit, it was entertaining.

But Laura had to leave the vicinity. She had a meeting with the good Admiral, and she wouldn't be able to bear the embarrassment that would come with breaking into giggles. She was still recovering from her months long illness-and all the changes that came with it. And Bill was already worried about her; she didn't need him thinking she finally cracked. Especially, when there was no way she'd be able to tell him what was causing her laughter.

So, she'd go to his quarters and treat him and their fuel reports with the decorum they deserved. But she couldn't stop her thoughts from wandering slightly. Laura was always a relatively quiet person, preferring to listen than to speak. (Imagine her surprise when she met Bill Adama and was the more talkative of the two leaders.) But her thoughts were very active. Many went unvoiced, and quite a few never amounted to more than stray thoughts during dull parts of her day. But these wandering thoughts were different. They were about Bill and whether she'd want to kill, boff, or marry him. Although there were moments when she wanted to kill him, mostly very early in their association, Laura was torn between marrying him or boffing him. Ultimately, she decided marrying him would be best; then, she could boff him too. It was the first time she had ever given marriage a passing thought. She boarded the raptor prepared to bring her to Galactica feeling very strange. She hoped she'd be able to control herself during the meeting.

Bill was sitting on the sofa in his quarters. He was brushing up on the fuel reports and any other report that seemed pertinent. After months of working with Laura, he'd learned he could never be too prepared for their meetings. The woman could multi-task like no one he'd ever met. And her mind worked very quickly. But she never minded his slower pace. In fact, she seemed to be glad that he preferred to take his time, considering the many angles. She once remarked that the devil was in the details, and she was glad to have Bill's input in handling them. Likewise, he was always glad for Laura's ability to transfer the small picture to a larger scale for him. Their discussions were never dull; although, an outsider would probably become lost very quickly.

The Roslin-Adama administration was complete with its own language and culture. They both had a habit of leaving sentences unfinished, completing each other's thoughts, and relying on non-verbal communication. At first, their meetings included Saul, Lee, Baltar, and Gaeta. But after awhile, they found they got more accomplished when it was just the two of them. They still met for larger meetings occasionally, but the ordinary, day-to-day stuff, or the sensitive, fleet security concerns were best handled by Bill and Laura alone.

Laura found Bill on his sofa surrounded by reports. He was so deep in thought, he hadn't heard her enter through the hatch. They had forgone with knocking months before.

"Where would you like me to sit, Bill?"

Laura never could resist throwing her Admiral off a bit. She found it so endearing watching him try to recover. To his credit, he always recovered quickly. He hadn't earned his Admiral pips for nothing, after all. This time, though, she was getting a lot of enjoyment at his expense. And she felt bad. Bill was embarrassed by the state of his quarters-she had quickly learned he was a neat freak-and by not leaving a place on the sofa for his President. After all they had been through in the first few months of their association, Bill was very careful to demonstrate his respect for Laura and her position. So, he'd consider the state of his sofa a failure on that front.

Bill was shuffling things around, trying to quickly make a space for his President, preferably one close to him. Laura decided to let him off the hook.

"It's okay. You look like you were deep in thought."

"Yeah, I was trying to catch up on the reports."

"Good, I'll rely on you then. I'm afraid I was a bad President."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I haven't read a single report today."

"I'm sure you were busy."

"Of course."

Bill had finished moving the last of the reports onto the table. And Laura took her customary seat next to him.

"Listen, I didn't see anything in those reports that merits a specialized conversation. We can table those for another time, if you'd like. I'm sure there are other things we can discuss."

"Yes. That's perfect."

"I never thought I'd be more prepared than you for a meeting."

"Never say never, Bill."

"What shall we discuss?"

If Bill had thought Laura was underprepared for the meeting, he was sorely mistaken. She may not have read the reports, but she had a laundry list of things she'd thought about to discuss. And that was just what she had come up with during the raptor ride to Galactica.

They talked for at least an hour. A sociologist or anthropologist could fill a book with the shifts that when on in their talk. They had no specific agenda, and they simply moved from topic to topic. Bill thought about the details; Laura focused on the big picture, and they put their perspectives together.

Then the talk really shifted. Bill usually was able to filter his thoughts from being spoken, but the filter failed him this time, when he said, "I love your mind."

"You love my mind?"

"Yes, I do."

"Not sure anyone's ever said that to me before."

"Not everyone can appreciate it."

"But you can?"

"I do now, yes."

"Maybe we should get married."

"Was that a proposal?"

"No. I was just..."

Then it became very quiet in the Admiral's quarters. Neither spoke as they considered what the best thing to say would be. Finally, Bill made one of his rare jokes.

"I suggest we date before you issue your proposal."

This time, it was Laura's filter that failed. "Or we could just frak."

"Okay."

Laura didn't know how Bill would react, but she certainly didn't expect that. "Okay?"

"Yeah. I may love more than just your mind."

"You do, huh?"

"Oh yeah."

"Show me what you've got, soldier."

If Laura expected a quick frak on the Admiral's couch, she was sorely mistaken. They didn't spend any time on the couch. Instead, Bill took her hand and guided her to the rack. Bill demonstrated his skill at paying attention to detail. Laura focused on the big picture. But together they were perfect.

"You still want to marry me, Laura?"

"I don't know, but I'd like to boff you again."

"Boff?"

"Yup. Boff, Marry, Kill. You ever play?"

"You have no idea."


End file.
